


After Halamshiral

by sacredsymbol821



Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Thats it just fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-22
Updated: 2015-11-22
Packaged: 2018-05-02 19:52:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5261399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sacredsymbol821/pseuds/sacredsymbol821
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marcos Trevelyan is extremely tired after the events of Halamshiral.  Fluff ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	After Halamshiral

Marcos Trevelyan slowly walked himself into the carriage that would take him back to Skyhold. He sat on the cushioned bench and sighed, putting his head against the wall of the carriage and closing his eyes for a little while. It was going to be a very long journey, especially when he was rushing back to make their next move with the War Council.

He had slept a grand total of two hours last night before getting to work on the paperwork he had to fill out from previous missions that he could not finish due to the ball at the Winter Palace. 

It had reminded him too much of home, which is probably why he disliked it so much. Sure, he had learned from his older sisters how to smooze up to nobles, and he had some of the best dancing lessons he did not need at Skyhold- which Josephine and Leliana had insisted upon. Now that it was over, however, Marcos could be himself again.

He was not looking forward to riding alone in a carriage without anyone to speak to, but that meant sleep, at least until they stopped for a while. Unfortunately, Marcos remembered he had trouble sleeping in carriages and frowned. It shouldn’t have taken this long to get on the road he noted, and was about to say something to the driver when he heard movement outside his carriage.

Marcos sat up straight and moved his left hand towards the daggers hidden underneath his undercoat. There shouldn’t have been any danger in Orlais- especially since he had gotten Celene back on the throne- but there was still a chance that a Venatori could be outside, and the last thing he needed was to get shot or killed by someone for not being on guard.

He waited for the footsteps to fade away, but instead they went onto his carriage and he hoped that it wasn’t any one of his advisors or Cassandra. He really did not feel like talking about how the mission went. Instead, Dorian popped his head into the carriage.

Marcos smiled a tired smile at Dorian as the man sat across from him. He took his hand off the hilt of the dagger.

“From that greeting or lack thereof, I’m going to assume that you got no sleep last night when you told me you were, and I quote, ‘Tired as a baby nug’.” Dorian accused. 

Marcos held the bench as the carriage lurched, indicated that they had finally started moving, and heard the hoof beats of the horse begin to move the carriage.

“Well, I was tired when I got into my room, and I did sleep a little.” He answered amicably.

“Define a little.” Dorian narrowed his eyes.

“Around two hours.” Dorian opened his mouth to say something when Marcos put his arm out to stop him.

“Before you interrupt with some smart remark I’m behind on mission reports and was not tired at that point.” Marcos finished, and put his arm down to let the other man speak.

“I did recall asking you to sleep with me, with which you declined because you laughed.” 

“Because we were both very drunk, and I do not recall a time that led us to sleeping peacefully. Ever.” Marcos reminded him.

“I cannot argue with that. However, I recall you saying that you don’t sleep well in carriages, either. You have, well and truly, worked yourself into a bind.” Dorian smirked.

“And not the good kind.” Marcos admitted. He yawned after the sentence, and blinked the tired tears out of his eyes. He placed his head back against the wall just as they hit a bump and hit his head against the ceiling. Marcos yelped and muttered,

“Could do with something soft, but there are no pillows here. Why should they have pillows? Not as if people sleep in these things.” He frowned, putting his head sideways on the cushion, leaving him in a very contorted position.

“I count three places you’ll be sore in if you even attempt to sleep like that.” Dorian commented drily.

Marcos shot him a look.

“Well then, what do you suggest?” He pouted at the smaller man, sitting up again. His hair was all tussled and out of place.

“I have been told that I’m very soft. Perhaps you could use me as a pillow?” Dorian hesitated for a split second before quickly switching benches to sit next to Marcos. 

Marcos tilted his head to look at Dorian.

“Are you sure?” He muttered.

Dorian’s smile wavered for a second.  
“If I wasn’t sure, I wouldn’t have offered, would I have?”

“Good point.” Marcos sighed before slowly putting his head on the other man’s arm.

“If…if my head falls just pick it up. My neck…is important. I think. You were right…you’re warm…” Marcos trailed off before going silent and the only thing Dorian could hear was the clopping of hooves against the ground. 

Soon, he heard the sound of heavy breathing, signaling that Marcos had dropped off to sleep.

Dorian found his eyelids drooping because of the rythmatic clopping of the hooves and soon found himself fast asleep.


End file.
